


The water hears and understands, the ice does not forgive

by QueenoftheApples



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Agnarr is Fjerdan royalty, Anna is Fjerdan royalty, As in the religious following of the Saints, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Better when you read it I'm just really tired help, Drüskelle, Elsa Has Ice Powers (Disney), Elsa is Fjerdan royalty, Elsa is a tidemaker? (I think), Elsa is an Etherealki, Elsa is tired, Fjerda, Hans is drüskelle, Honeymaren is Grisha, Iduna and Agnarr's A+ parenting, Iduna is Fjerdan royalty, Kristoff is tired, Nikolai Lantsov is a King, No One Wanted This, Not Beta Read, POV Elsa (Disney), Small amounts of Elsamaren, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Darkling is a (semi)good friend I guess, The Darkling is tired, The North Huldra are pilgrims, There might be a massacre, We Die Like Men, Well not yet - Freeform, but he has a sled, but we stan, grisha - Freeform, grishaverse au, why am i writing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29116731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheApples/pseuds/QueenoftheApples
Summary: Elsa was born to be the perfect Princess, but a fierce attack of fate leaves her with a terrifying power that her people would see her hung for possessing. Now Elsa is less of the beloved Princess she was born to be and more of an abomination than anything the Fjerdan royal family has ever had to deal with.At the age of twenty-one Elsa makes a decision that could get her killed. She escapes from the Ice Court armed with only mediocre mastery of her abilities and two bags of heavy coins, now on the run from forces her royal status usually offered her protection from Elsa has to find a way to safety. Crossing into enemy territory seems to be the only way to guarantee it.Little does Elsa know she's entering a much more dangerous Civil War than she had bargained for.
Relationships: Anna/Hans (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa/Nikolai Lantsov
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	1. Frozen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Ok listen, this idea came to me while I was reading King of Scars and listening to the Frozen II soundtrack. I don't know why I thought this was a good idea, but it seemed like something that would be fun to write. If anyone ever reads this let me clear a few things up.
> 
> ->Elsa and Nikolai might not even be a couple, I'm just seeing how it goes as I write.  
> ->Elsa, Anna, Iduna and Agnarr are the current royal family of Fjerda.  
> ->Hans and his brothers will be considered Drüskelle in this.  
> ->Elsa's abilities will be considered powerful in an above average way, she will obviously have more talent with ice than with water.  
> ->Honeymaren will be a healer.  
> ->The Northuldra will be considered followers of Saints, specifically Alina since they mentioned they were the people of the sun.  
> ->Kristoff and Anna will be major characters later (as it is looking right now), but I wanna give Elsa her time to shine first.  
> ->The Anna and Hans in this is like in the movie, purely for Hans's gain. I really don't actually ship it.

Elsa screwed her eyes shut and kicked the cobbled floor, propelling her back deeper into the cold stone walls of her room as she tried to make herself smaller. Tried to breathe again without choking on the bile in her throat. Tried to keep her eyes from opening again only to see the horrible cuffs the _drüskelle_ had secured around her hands being consumed by the abomination Djel had bestowed her with. Her parents should have known Djel would not approve of a woman governing Fjerda. Each step toward the modernization of it’s laws only caused Elsa to choke on the repercussions.

_A woman._

She blew her long hair out of her face and shifted her dress from under her.

_A witch._

She flinched as more ice bloomed across her palms and over the cuffs, traveling down the chains and scratching against the walls.

_An abomination._

A Fjerdan royal, a _drüsje._

_A curse._

Punishment from Djel in the royal family would always be frowned upon. A curse present would start to people of Fjerda to question the legitimacy of it’s rulers. Fjerdans may not question.

Elsa imagined Anna’s sunken voice ringing in her ear, “Father told you the gloves might be too thin, why did you not listen?”

Why didn’t she listen? Why did she feel like she could shake the hand of Lady Maja when the power inside her had been crawling through her veins in ice cold torrents just waiting to be set free for months? Why did watching the ice bloom up Lady Maja’s arm not horrify her, but instead make her feel alive again? Why, despite the bile in her throat, did Elsa feel like she was breathing clearly for the first time in months?

Lady Maja would likely lose that arm to the jagged jaws of frostbite. That was her crime, her crime was being born with something she could never hope to control. At least not while she lived in Fjerda. Elsa could feel the ice spreading across her skin twirling over her cheeks and spiking up around her neck, collecting in small spikes over her shoulders, slowly slithering down her arm to collect around the cuffs. Elsa always knew when it was spreading. She could always feel the way the ice coiled around the earth like a sharp claw gripping the ground. She wanted it to stop. She wanted quiet, Elsa did not want to feel every small expansion of frost. She didn’t want to be aware of every snowflake that hit the ground outside.

She hated the way the curse made her skin prickle when snow fell. Hated the way she was always aware of every blizzard and storm around her, but could never see the flurries outside. She could only ever squint through the window and hope to see something like snow. The only snow she had felt in years was the snow she created herself and that hardly counted. That snow never brought forth good memories, only memories of the way Jarl Brum would drag sharp knives slowly across her skin when he noticed the melting flakes in her room.

The punishment always made her scream until she couldn’t breathe, but admittedly harnessing the cursed power of hers always made her think clearer. It always made her feel more free, she didn't feel like she was choking any more.

Deep down Elsa knew it was because truthfully she just wanted to watch the Ice Court disappear in a blizzard from atop a high peak, truthfully she wanted to run from the confines of it’s walls. Truthfully she wanted to crack the court open like a thin sheet of thawing ice on a Spring day herself. She really just wanted to watch the drüskelle slip on sheets of ice she had created herself as she fled the court, winter wind ruffling her hair as she ran laughing.

Elsa was however aware of how foolish it all sounded. If she were to even attempt an escape the _drüskelle’s_ wolves would have her on the ground and bleeding within seconds. Their muzzles would close around her neck and then maybe it would all be over, or maybe her Father would choose to make an example of her on the pyre. He would showcase how not even his own daughter would escape justice for her crimes.

It was always days like these, when the cuffs were secured around her hands and the blood was running down her wrists and pooling under her fingertips, that Elsa did not stop herself from quietly sniffling and whispering the question to herself.

“ _What_ crimes?” Elsa’s breath hitched and she let out a yelp as soon as the question left her mouth. She was Fjerdan, she _is_ Fjerdan. Elsa is a Fjerdan Princess. She cannot allow herself to start thinking like this, to start believing that even if just for one second that she could question her people’s culture. Question the _Drüskelle_ order. Question her Father. Question her place as a woman.

It was far past midnight, Elsa would have screamed if her voice wasn’t frozen in her throat. Would have clawed at the walls if she could. She was exhausted, she wanted to see Anna again. Wanted Anna to sneak into her cell like she did the last time, wanted Anna to gently brush the knots out of her hair and braid it. For Anna to bring those ornaments she loved so much, the silver ones that represented the seasons their Mother bought for them from Kerch, when they were still young. She remembered the way her Mother’s hands would gently weave them into their hair. Anna was always Spring and Summer.

Anna was always so bright and lively. Even as she cradled her bleeding head as Elsa sobbed and tried to stop the bleeding with her cloak. Anna would blink blearily as she softly hummed to herself, hand on top of Elsa’s, waiting for the court physician to come. Anna was always kind to Elsa even as she was bleeding from an injury Elsa had caused. An injury that would still take her years to recover from, but at least she wasn’t dead. Anna was now much more sensitive to the cold than she should’ve been, yet she still came to see Elsa every time she was kept in the room. Anna always had a cloak and a small bottle of _kvas_ at the ready as she told Elsa of the meager things.

“Did you hear that Countess Tilde is pregnant again?” She took a swig, “It’s like she doesn’t already have three sons to worry about!” She would say with a snort and stretch her legs over the cobblestone as she let Elsa drink some of the _kvas_ she brought. Anna would ramble for hours and Elsa would be content listening to every word, sometimes she would pipe in and tell her a few things too.

“The newest drüskelle recruits look like a scrawny bunch, did you see?” Elsa whispered one night when the wind was howling around the walls of the court, somehow managing to wrap the court in a whirlwind of noise and disruption. The guards scurried around outside as Anna pulled the cloak around her tighter she bit her lip and leaned her head on Elsa’s trembling shoulder, steadying her.

“Elsa… do you hate the _drüskelle_?” Anna had asked her quietly. Elsa wanted so badly to shout _yes_. She wanted to watch the people who messed with her curse, made her lose control of it at times, fall into dust as she stood above them. Power glowing in her hands. Elsa knew she could not think like this, she hated her curse. _Hates it_. Yet sometimes when she let her mind wander too far she saw herself in the mountains, hair loose and flowing in the wind as the icicles far under her in the chasms that the mountains left in their wake sang when the wind picked on them with fervor. She could see herself sitting in the fluffy snow as her power ran rampant. Icicles bursting from her palms in a circle, sharp and tall and threatening as the _drüskelle_ who had dared to touch her cowered. It felt empowering.

It always did until she had to remind herself that these abilities were not natural. They were an _abomination_. With that in mind the icicles always shrank away and the _drüskelle_ overfell her. Her blood would flow down the crevices in the mountain and the ice would numb the pain and there would be justice in Fjerda again.

_This is what you were born for._

There would be justice in Fjerda again and the _drüskelle_ would be the ones who bring it. How could Elsa hate them? They’re helping Fjerda, that should be all that matters. That should be enough to like them. They should have Elsa’s gratitude really, for all they do for Fjerda. So she said no, she said she didn’t hate them when in truth some days she wanted to kill them herself.

Elsa even pretended to be happy for Anna when she told her about one of the _drüskelle_ , Hans, that had a good chance of becoming a commander because of pure talent soon. She told her about what a gentleman Hans is. How he was so funny when he was with her, how they adore the same foods, how he was so incredibly handsome and then the biggest shock of the evening.

“He proposed?!” Elsa shrieked quietly. “Didn’t you meet him just yesterday?”

“Well yes, but Elsa it’s true love-” Anna began only to be cut off.

“Anna he’s after your title, you can’t marry a man you just met-”

“How can you say that Elsa? You don’t even know what love feels like.” Anna twisted her lip.

“Anna it’s too fast-” Elsa said tiredly.

“It isn’t!” Anna shouted, frustrated.

“Anna-”

“No, Elsa I know what I’m doing. You haven’t even been out in the last two months,” she scowled, “you don’t know anything.”

Anna had stormed out that night, the door being slammed as its hinges clattered. Elsa hated that sound now. She remembered how the ice shot out around her in a protective circle that night, how even the shouts of the soldiers didn’t get her to look up. That was the last time Anna had visited her before she saw her again at the ball.

Elsa recoiled further into herself, burying her face into her knees. She allowed her eyes to open and stared at her feet, clad in light blue slippers from the party earlier, shuffling them as she took a shuddering breath. Quietly she slipped the shoes off and kicked them to the side, curling her toes and tapping them gently against the cobblestone while humming a tune to herself. It would have been catchy if not for the fact that she kept choking on the notes as she sang them.

The song was one that her Mother had sung for her before they were aware that she was a witch. Anna would clumsily put ornaments in her hair as her Mother cradled them both, whispering tales of the great and stretching lands that made Djel’s body whole. Then she would sing the song, sometimes it was worthy of being performed on the grand stages of the Kerch and other times it was barely a murmur in Elsa’s ear. Elsa missed all the moments she used to share with her Mother and Anna. Sometimes she could still afford to think what it would have been like for her if she had never discovered her abomination. If she had never created the white streak that ran among Anna’s auburn locks. What it would have been like if she wasn’t forced to stay away from her family in all events other than balls. To keep appearances.

Sometimes Elsa could afford to weep about that too, but she never dared weep about her lost relationship with her Father. It would burn her heart to ashes if she dared. Dared to remember the way he swung her over his shoulder and called her _snödroppe_ while he played the villain, hiding away in her small wooden castle. The way he used to surprise her with a new crown out of the blue and then wear the old one as they discussed matters of the utmost importance regarding her collection of wool dolls over a small cup of hot chocolate from her tea set. The way he used to spin her in the snow and then throw her at the largest pile of snow he could see.

_He_ _needn’t pretend to be the villain anymore_ , she thought bitterly as she bit her lip. He had made himself her villain when he slapped the cuffs on her wrists and led her towards the _drüskelle_ training sector of the court. He made himself the villain when he left her there for weeks on end to be “conditioned” by the commanding officers. When he left her there in chains and only returned when the next waning moon hung in the sky.

The thought made her throat constrict, it was almost as if his cold hands were enclosing around hers again as he whispered to her, “Do not worry little _drüsje_ they will have you fixed in no time.” Back then he had softly ran his hand through her hair as he led her towards her new room. It was a quaint place with thick walls made of cobblestone with a singular stained glass window, that would in later years be replaced with grisha reinforced steel bars as Elsa became more aware of her situation, it had a lovely canopy bed with ice blue sheets spread over it decorated like her favourite view of the glass bridge. She had marvelled at it and so went into the room with wide open eyes and an open heart.

Weeks later she had left that very same beautiful room with wrists cut open from the cuffs they had made especially for her. They were dreadfully heavy things that coated her hands entirely with strong heavy chains running from the very tips of them to a strong spike in the wall that she was chained to.

When she was nine she could barely handle lifting them to walk around her room, she would fall asleep at the stained glass window every night and would awake to the coloured rays every morning. The way the rays changed colour as they hit the floor was the only thing keeping her happy. The window was a stained glass painting of Djel, his elbows that stretched high into the sky and his heart, right where the Ice Court loomed over Djerholm. Elsa would stare at it every morning imagining herself fading into the colours and dancing with Djel as he showed her the land that he gave life until the _drüskelle_ soldiers would fetch her.

When she was sixteen and far less imaginative, but far stronger she danced around the room chains ringing with every step.

Now at twenty-one Elsa just wanted to be sucked into its cobbled walls. That did not change when her Father’s clear voice echoed through the room, in fact it might have amplified her need to sink into the walls completely. Her Father always had a wonderful way with words, a tongue swathed in wonder as he told even the tallest tales with conviction. Elsa wanted to believe that the story he was telling her right now was also just that. A tall tale spun by a silver tongue.

A tall tale about a tall girl with hair like spider silk tied to a pyre being swathed in flames that were fueled by ancient hatred for girls like her. _Drüsje_. A tall tale about how her pale skin would blister under the heat of the sun and the heat of the flame as the people of Fjerda marvelled at the beautiful dedication their King had to the law. A beautiful tale of how her Mother would weep for her but stand tall, because at the end of the day that was what was expected of the Fjerdan Queen.

A sad tale of how a sister would weep for months at the pyre, each day bringing a new type of flower that her sister never had the chance to set her eyes upon.

A glorious tale of the destruction of an abomination, the destruction of a girl that could tickle even the body of Djel with a flick of her wrist. The destruction of a girl who could control the icy trenches of Fjerda. The destruction of someone who was born to masquerade. Someone who was born to be a Queen, but became a witch instead. Someone who would have infiltrated their good judgement were it not for a slip up revealing her devilish power.

Elsa hoped her Father got his glory. Hoped that he would revel in the light of the approval his people gave him. Hoped he would enjoy it like one might enjoy a fine syrup on a glazed pork, with little thought. Hoped the sun might shine on him in the Summer so he would be warm and lazy when the Winter approached.

Elsa clenched her fists inside the cuffs, ignoring the way it pricked her skin. Reveling in the way the permafrost dripped from her palms.

_Do not weep for me yet, Anna._


	2. Into the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa plans an escape from the Ice Court and is faced with an unexpected ally that aids her escape from the Court. Now Elsa is faced with the challenging landscapes of Fjerda as but one of her enemies. She suspects the drüskelle will soon be on the hunt for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far. Please tell me what you think in the comments.

Elsa opened her eyes to pale blue light and a distorted image of the stained glass window she was used to seeing. Djel’s body was carved into five thick parts and disrupted by long chasms of iron bars. Elsa had memorized the map before they even got the chance to put the bars in. She wanted to dance with her country, she did, even if it was only in her dreams. She had imagined herself gliding over the frosted plains and onto the mountains, feet clinging to the frosted tips of every mountain she wanted to climb. 

She had never seen the entirety of Fjerda, but the map of it was the only thing that had brought her joy for two years and she would never forget it. Her Father would be ill prepared for her plan, he had conditioned her for misery and expected her to sit down and take it again. To burn on the pyre for her _supposed_ crimes, she was not standing for it, not this time.

She clenched her fists again and imagined the power running towards her palms like a stream runs down a mountain, gathering in a great lake. The ice gathered in her palms, it was cold and flailing out, it was as desperate as Elsa to escape from the cuffs. Elsa could feel it spreading up her wrists, covering the cuffs in freezing frost from the inside out. She willed it to become colder, she wanted to hear the steel crack. If she kept cooling the metal it would eventually become easy to shatter when she wanted to make her escape, but first she needed find a way to get out silently. 

The Ice Court was well known for the secrets it could hide in it's circular walls. Elsa was more aware of that fact than anyone could ever imagine, but being one of the secrets only the commanding officers knew of had its perks. The regular soldiers all knew her as the much less sociable princess who only appeared if it was absolutely necessary. Today however it would be _absolutely necessary_ for her to make a trip West, so she may pray in even more solitude than she usually required. As a royal she would automatically have clearance at the gate and the _drüskelle_ present knew she could only leave her room if the King gave permission. She will be gone before it was even time for her to wake.

Elsa silently shuffled over to her bed and stuck her foot under the bed, dragging the cloak that Anna had left there the previous time she visited out from under it. Anna always left the hair clips rolled in the coat and Elsa was still in the indigo dress she had worn to the ball, she would look so well put together that they would believe her. All she needed to do was find a new pair of gloves to hide the redness of her palms and the blood caked under her nails, those were easy to access- had she not been wearing the cuffs. All her dresses were shoved into a trunk at the foot of her bed, along with her cloaks and gloves. Her shoes were also shoved under her bed. 

She huffed as the frost leaking from her palms got even colder, clenching her fingers and flexing them again. They were getting stiff. Elsa crouched onto the ground and gently tapped each of the cuffs on the cobblestone. It started with one small crack on each, slowly spreading as she ran towards the bed, then they broke off. Gently clattering onto the soft silk sheets. Elsa lifted her hands and flexed her fingers in awe, now all she had to do was find a way to _stop_ her palms from spouting frost. She gently shook them and watched as small pieces of ice fell onto the ground like scattering gems. She frowned and wrapped her hands in one of the many blankets on her bed. 

She could feel the trickle of the stream slowly subsiding as her eyes tracked the frost climbing the threads of the blanket. Then her power came to a standstill, as if faced with a gate. The power still lashed against her suppressing it, but at least it wasn't covering the whole room. Elsa sighed in relief as she walked to the trunk, pulling out a pair of ice blue leather gloves made for travelling and a cloak lined with wool to keep her warm. She pulled on the boots that had been shoved under her bed and weaved the flower ornaments into her hair. 

Elsa wanted to look at herself, she wanted to confirm that she was actually going to escape. She had always been capable of it, but doing it was a whole different story. She never wanted to believe that her Father would actually have her executed, but when it came to burning on the pyre and throwing away her entire identity to form a new safer one Elsa always knew what she would choose. Anna would make a fantastic Queen that much she knew, but she would always be afraid of the curse reaching her sister too. 

She could only hope that she had taken the worst of it so Fjerda would know being ruled by a woman regardless. Djel would watch over Anna, he had never watched over Elsa. She could only hope that he spent that energy watching over Anna instead. 

Elsa took a deep breath and waltzed towards the door, she took off one glove and placed her hand over the lock and watched as the ice took it over only stopping when the entire lock was covered. Elsa willed the stream to freeze again and shook her hand, no small pieces of ice this time. She pulled the glove on again and gently knocked the lock off its perch on the door, catching it in her other hand. She gently placed the lock on the floor and bumped the door open. There were never guards stationed in the corridor she lived in, she was grateful for being a secret that could've ruined the royal family for once. She slipped into the hall and quietly closed the door behind her.

Elsa knew it would only be an incredibly dangerous game from here, she would always feel out of place in these halls. The key was looking as snooty as her Father, Elsa raised her nose in the air and walked with purpose in her stride, hands tightly clasped behind her back. When she reached the end of the hall she pulled the door open, only to be greeted with the face of a guard, her eyes narrowed in the way she had only seen her Father do, she arched a brow. The guard looked frozen as his eyes scanned her. Elsa sighed impatiently. The guard's eyes snapped up to her own.

"Uh good morning your highness." He said curtly, not moving from his place in front of her. Elsa narrowed her eyes further and jutted her chin in the air a little higher as she nodded to her left. A clear message displayed in her hard eyes. 

_Move._

The guard nearly slipped as he scrambled to get out of her way, she stopped herself from smiling as she glided past him. She let her chin fall lower again as she entered the hall that was brimming with servants. They were probably preparing breakfast, Elsa looked at the lump of dough still resting on a platter in a maid's hand. _Breakfast will be served in about an hour and a half_. The servants upon seeing her broke into frantic whispers as they handed their trays to each other to bow. The other servants at the end of the hall hadn't even seen her yet but they were already bowing lowly. 

_Good_ , she thought, _better that less people see me_. 

Elsa made it through most of the halls without incident, the guards and servants all had too much respect for the royal family to actually dare look for longer than a second. The gate will be much more difficult to reach, not to mention getting out without someone alerting the _drüskelle_ commanders. She couldn't afford to let that happen. Her execution date was set for next week and no one had been alerted of that fact yet, she hoped, if she were to be caught right now they would probably move the date to something more close to today. Elsa would sadly have to count on her royal status to shut the staff up. Though _hers_ specifically didn't carry much sway in these halls.

She always knew the servants defaulted to two modes of action when they saw a royal in the halls. Number one was a scandalised lowering of their heads and a mouth sewn shut, the other was a frantic silence until they passed then the halls would be bombarded with gossip. Elsa was unlucky, her presence was a rare one. There would most certainly be gossip. She would just have to hope she could get out of the court before the vine of whispers reached Jarl Brum or her Father's ears. 

The last of the halls were easy to pass through as well, that was until she noticed her Mother sitting by one of the larger windows that overlooked the glass bridge. Elsa froze. 

Maybe she could pass without her Mother even batting an eye in her direction?

Elsa took a tentative step forward, a few more. She was almost past her Mother's morning perch, but fate couldn't possibly be that kind to her. 

The Queen of Fjerda turned and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her daughter. Elsa stood before her dressed in an indigo gown embroidered with silver, her hair was twisted into a neat braided bun with small ornaments weaved into it. Elsa looked stunning, she looked _alive_. The Queen abruptly stood from the bench she had been lounging on and cleared her throat. Elsa drew the cloak around her closer as she curtsied.

"Mother." She said curtly.

"Elsa." The Queen replied, she sunk onto the bench again, eyes darting around the hall. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I was hoping to appease Djel with an early morning stroll." Elsa answered calmly, not missing a beat. The Queen's eyes narrowed.

"Hoping to catch a carriage?" She said smoothly, straightening her skirts.

Elsa's eyes narrowed to meet her Mother's as she gave a small barely noticeable nod. 

The Queen swallowed thickly, hand drifting towards one of the cushions, Elsa stiffened. The Queen pulled out two decent sized bags of money and stuffed them into Elsa's cloak before anyone could see. Elsa's eyes widened as she clutched the bags to her chest. 

The Queen stood, an image of grace and perfection. The servants lowered their eyes. She gently took Elsa's arm and looped it through her own, gliding gracefully over the tiles. No servant would raise their head now, no servant would dare to gossip. All knew that Queen Iduna's chambermaids were terrible little snitches they wouldn't dare speak a word of this now. Elsa was grateful for that.

Elsa bit her lip as she carefully slid the coins into the inner pocket of her coat, her arm tightened around her Mother's. The Queen barely glanced at her daughter as she waltzed towards the door leading to the gates of the court, her Mother pulled a scarf from her shoulders and placed it around Elsa's. Iduna glanced down as they came to halt in front of the thick wooden doors, she took her daughter's hands in her own. Iduna had eyes the colour of water at a glacier's base, something Elsa had inherited from her Mother, and they were always gentle. Elsa did miss her Mother's eyes, the way they looked so strong in their calm. Her Mother was always a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

The ability to use her disadvantages as a woman in Fjerda to her advantage was nothing to be laughed about. It's why she is such a respected Queen. 

She gave Elsa's hands a firm squeeze and nodded at the door, whispering words that Elsa had cherished since her early childhood. 

_I'll meet you in Ahtohallan again snödroppe. Do not arrive to early darling girl._

Elsa nodded and bowed, allowing one tear to slip out of her eye. 

Leaving the Court and its walls behind would be easy, but damnit Elsa would miss her Mother and Anna. She would miss the small bread rolls her Mother spared for her occasionally. Miss Anna's constant rambling echoing through the halls, miss the sound the windowsill made when it started raining, it was a gurgling noise. Like a spring breaking free out of the stone. Elsa would miss the window in her room she would miss being baptised in the reflection of Djel every morning when the sun was high enough. 

Elsa cracked a small smile, "See you in Ahtohallan Mother, I hope it won't be soon."

The heavy doors opened and Elsa was greeted by a coach. It was a good size with strong wooden wheels that would certainly move over obstacles easily. The inside of the coach was lined with dark blue velvet and had two comfortable benches for Elsa too sleep on. Behind her she heard her Mother shout for her to have a wonderful month of prayer. Elsa nodded and climbed into the coach, shutting the door firmly as it started moving. 

Elsa had been baptised in the image of Djel for many years, now she would baptise herself in an image she carves for herself.

_She will baptise herself in her own image of Fjerda._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to critique, it can only help me to improve my writing. This is my first work on Ao3 so I'm not entirely sure how everything works yet. Apologies.


	4. Ok so I was thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author finally got an idea, now I just have to rewrite the entire fic. Hah. Fun. Don’t worry it will be continued.

Alright, yes this is an Authors note. No it’s not horrible news.   
  


So I recently finished King of Scars and I started writing this before I read King of Scars.

Now, I just realised that what King of Scars gives me is a lot more creative space with its content. It also gives me a much better idea for a plot. 

So I’ve decided to rewrite this fic. I don’t think it’ll take that long but then again I always say that to myself and then I regret saying it in the first place. Damn controversial idiocy.

BUT-Long story short I’m rewriting this fic. It’s hopefully going to be way better than what I have now and I’ve been playing tug-o-war with this idea for like a week.

I’m doing it.

Peace.


End file.
